


The Greatest Fear, is that of the Unknown

by vogue91



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “Now, when I look at the scar that I have from the operation, I always find the strength to give my best. I’m really grateful to you.”





	The Greatest Fear, is that of the Unknown

_“Now, when I look at the scar that I have from the_

_operation, I always find the strength to give my best._

_I’m really grateful to you.”_

Happy.

As he had never felt before.

Happy because for every moment he was allowed, one was taken away from his memory, it made fall into oblivion those moments of panic, when he had been hanging on a thread.

Confusion.

On his face, on Matsumoto’s, on Sho’s, on Nino’s. Even on Riida’s. And, maybe, that scared him more than anything else.

Seeing that confusion turning into fear, fear for him, had been... destabilizing. Because it didn’t matter that he was frightened, he was used to it.

Then, everything had become chaos. He wished he could’ve closed his eyes, so that he wouldn’t have been forced to look at them anymore, but he couldn’t help it.

And when everything around became dark, there was no confusion anymore.

Yet, the fear remained.

 

~

 

They weren’t kids anymore.

That had been his first clear thought, after minutes, hours – maybe days? – after he had seen Aiba give in.

Give in, and with him your armour had fallen as well. That illusion they all could live forever, that delirium of immortality that fit so well to their age, that in a moment had become the horror of five poor and naïve guys forcing to face their humanity.

Now he heard Aiba talking about those moments as if they actually belonged to a time that none of them had ever lived, or at least that’s what he wanted to believe.

It was then, perhaps, that he felt really different, for the first time.

Perhaps that man he thought he couldn’t become, lost in the recesses of a youth that seemed to be endless.

Because after all, yes, they were all kids. Kids that all of a sudden had become men, and that had realized that too late. Matsumoto didn’t like it, at all. And yet, while he listened one after another of Aiba’s words, he felt that somehow those words hid a whole new maturity, fresh, as if his voice now lacked a past, projected toward tomorrow.

A tomorrow. Together.

Because if they hadn’t been together, the five of them, they would probably still be reckless children playing with their lives.

Aiba was back on his feet, and he had seen all that surrounded him in a way he had never experimented before. It was time they did that too.

Matsujun smiled, among tears.

They were still the same, but that was a new beginning.

 

~

 

He didn’t know whether it was an excuse or not. But he hadn’t believed it, at all. Perhaps it was some sort of alibi created by his mind, perhaps his predisposition to diffidence, but when he had seen him he had felt surprised by the concern on the others’ faces.

Aiba... how credible was Aiba, anyway?

The he had understood. He had seen his eyes wide open, his hand going to his chest. Motionless. He wished he could’ve seen his reaction from outside.

A smile.

Then the doubt.

Then... the horror.

And always that same, damn diffidence.

He just couldn’t understand what was going on.

His mind refused to accept that Aiba wasn’t kidding, that his eyes weren’t lying to him, that that fear wasn’t unjustified, as he would’ve liked it to be.

It had been chaos, and for a while he had almost forgotten to think. And then, while they waited to know something, every single feeling he had repressed until then had exploded.

The silence they were in chocked him. He wished someone would’ve screamed, cried, showed his desperation, but it was like they were all off.

And there was nothing capable of suffocating those screams he heard clearly in his head.

It was a painful memory, the worst he had, and he had no chance to erase it.

Everything was alright, in the end. But those sensations had a hard time dying. He shivered at the thought that they were so more than any of them, that they were going to survive time, reminding him eternally that all that was under his eyes, all he had taken for granted, was imperfect, passing, ephemeral.

And while he was there, hearing how good he was at cheering them up, Nino almost hated himself.

Because Aiba truly thought that, and he knew it. He just wished he could’ve believed it, in those moments where he tried, he made an effort, he fought against the obvious just to tell himself he had done his best, as usual.

But no, he didn’t believe that. It was just another mask for that fear that had started following their steps like a shadow.

And yet, while he gazed upon his friends’ faces, and the ghost of their tears, he convinced himself that fear had served its purpose, somehow.

He smiled, unexpectedly, as opposed to the others.

And he smiled because, that day, he truly felt like the Ninomiya Kazunari the other saw, but that he had never been able to recognize.

Until now.

 

~

 

He still couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t believe he was there, with that almost stoic appearance, fitting him so little.

Aiba had always been crystal clear, for him as well as the others.

Spontaneous, reckless, at times even idiotic, but of that idiocy that one couldn’t help loving.

Then he had seen that face so damn expressive fade, in a split second, and he had felt confused.

He, who always had an answer for everything, so convinced that he could always take control of the situation, had been caught off guard, because there weren’t emotions on his friend’s face anymore. Not when he had fallen, nor when he had closed his eyes, nor when he had woken up again, and had had to deal with what had happened.

But he had soon surrendered to the obvious, so he had gotten back on his feet. And he was there, finally aware of a seriousness that didn’t really belong to him, talking about all they had shared, as if it was something he was used to do.

And while he spoke, Sho couldn’t help but bite down on his lip, trying to hold back the tears.

Not that he didn’t want to cry. He would’ve cried, definitely.

Just that, maybe, if he hadn’t done that he could’ve pretended none of that had actually happened.

He would’ve thought that time had stopped, and he would’ve been brought back to those moments where the emotions on Aiba’s, on Ma-chan’s, face were still an open book.

There was something incomprehensible in him, since he had opened his eyes back.

But, after all, Sho didn’t mind that much.

It was a challenge he was willing to accept, convinced he could manage to read this side of Aiba as well, new, but damn similar to the one he had been before.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

 

~

 

He wished he could’ve said something.

_Anything._

And yet, while he waited for someone to speak instead of him, while he waited for news about Aiba, while his mind tried to escape from the worst case scenarios, he kept repeating himself that there was nothing to say.

_As usual, after all._

It would’ve sounded fake, artificial, and he didn’t want to pretend that everything was alright, pretending to be there only by chance.

He remembered he had met Nino’s eyes then, and felt an undefeatable desire of hugging him and be hugged.

And perhaps he would’ve done that, if he hadn’t wanted to keep that strenuous battle against the fear clinging on his bowels, a fear he wasn’t used to.

And now Aiba, fit as a fiddle, on his feet again, used all those words for him that he hadn’t been able to say, finally putting him in the condition to cry. It was... freeing, somehow.

Memories hurt more than he would’ve thought, and those days were resurfacing, with every moment they wished they could’ve run, and instead they had kept still, waiting for good news, because none of them was going to stand bad ones.

_“I count on you, Riida.”_

He counted on him, but Ohno couldn’t say if it truly was the right thing to do. He just knew that they had too much road in front of them, too many words, emotions, feelings to keep quiet or say out loud, following that latent instinct inside that had always shown him the right path to follow.

And, right then, instinct told him that crying was the best thing to do, because he wasn’t going to have the strength to talk, to reply, to say that he was glad for those simple words.

He loved them all, and he just needed them to know.

 

~

 

_Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry._

Like a mantra inside his head, he kept repeating that.

But he had never been good at convincing himself, and he stopped trying.

He was crying for all they were saying to him, even just with their eyes.

Because after all that time together, it was like he could read on their faces those feelings they had never been able to express.

Like him, who always talked too much without saying anything.

And for the first time he had realized it wasn’t always necessary to say how much he cared for them to know, it just took being himself, always. And that, he could do.

And if crying was a part of him, even the most prevalent, he wasn’t going to hide those tears just to pretend he was at peace with himself.

He cried with them, because it was the best thing he could do.

Because together they had always laughed, like they were going to keep on doing. But that day, right then, there was something different.

The wound on his chest burned, for a moment. But looking in their eyes, he forgot that quickly.

He erased the past, making room for the future.

Together.

 

_From now on, let’s give our best,_

_together._


End file.
